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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24855478">A Special Package</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipperofdarkness/pseuds/shipperofdarkness'>shipperofdarkness</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adult Toy Maker Castiel, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Blame the Sex Toy Boom from Quarantine, Cas makes Dildos, Castiel Has a Crush on Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Dorks, Castiel and Gabriel are Siblings (Supernatural), Castiel has a hand kink, Dildos, First Date, First Kiss, First Meetings, Gabriel Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Honestly the intro is based on Crazy Ex-Girlfriend because that show is my other love, Humor, Identity Reveal, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Meet-Cute, Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester, POV Castiel (Supernatural), Pining, Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Quarantine &amp; Chill (Supernatural), Secret Identity, Sex Toys, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, moodboard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:42:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,487</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24855478</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipperofdarkness/pseuds/shipperofdarkness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel's therapist suggests he pick up a hobby, he doubts this is what she had in mind. One joke gift leads Castiel to spend his quarantine making sex toys, which might just grab the attention of his green-eyed neighbor.</p><p>
  <em>Or Dean wants Castiel's package.</em>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>ProfoundBond Exchange: Quarantine &amp; Chill</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Special Package</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boudica176/gifts">Boudica176</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi Boudica! This is my first time participating in the PB Gift Exchange, and my first time writing Destiel so I hope you like it!</p><p>Big thank you to my betas, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardgalpal/pseuds/waywardgalpal">waywardgalpal</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangirlintheForest/pseuds/FangirlintheForest/">FangirlintheForest</a>, for cheerleading me through this entire endeavor. I love you both and am forever grateful for your support!</p><p>UPDATE 10/07/20: With permission, I've added a moodboard including Boudica's original resin dildo, which inspired this piece. You can find her complete Etsy shop <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/TullenPNW">here!</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>It all starts when Castiel’s therapist suggests he pick up a hobby. An innocent enough task. Something creative might relieve some of his lingering stress and get him out of the mental slump he’s dug himself into. He knows Dr. Vallens is right. While the last three months have flown by, Castiel’s burnout symptoms remain.</p><p>Working as a corporate attorney had been exhilarating when he’d first joined Zachariah’s firm. Castiel had enjoyed the feeling of adrenaline he got from fighting for his clients. He was talented and his colleagues quickly took notice of the up-and-comer. He’d been groomed from a young age to follow in his mother’s footsteps. Naomi Novak was legendary in court. He was finally making her proud. So when she suddenly passed, Castiel was left distraught. </p><p>Seeing Gabriel at the funeral had been the final straw. Naomi had groomed him to be nothing like his older sibling, but seeing him made Castiel question if that would be such a bad thing. His estranged brother oozed charisma and genuine happiness that Castiel found himself envious of. He had a whole life outside of work, which Castiel realized he longed for. Maybe there was more than just power and acclaim.</p><p>In the following weeks, the uneasiness stayed with him, gnawing away at his insides. He couldn’t sleep or focus. The cases no longer felt important. His motivation faltered. Castiel questioned if he had ever truly cared or if that had only been his commitment to being a good son, to prioritize his mother's happiness over his own. So he left.</p><p>He found a place closer to Gabriel, a small apartment building with four units—two on top and two on bottom. Castiel moved his stuff in and set out to discover himself. It was a daunting task when he’d never considered his own path before. His mother had always insisted she’d known best. Breaking that mold terrified him but he knew it was the only way. Thankfully, his savings and modest inheritance would allow him this grace period.</p><p>Dr. Mia Vallens had been the first step in the right direction. Her eyes had widened at the long list of pills Castiel was taking. They were now in the process of weaning him off his cocktail of medications and establishing a new baseline. In the meantime, Castiel needs to find ways to manage his stress levels. He already exercises regularly and finds peace in his early morning yoga but he can’t shake the buzzing beneath his skin. Anxiety, Dr. Vallens—Mia, he reminds himself—calls it.</p><p>Walking up to his apartment, Castiel catches a glimpse of his next-door neighbor through the opposing unit’s window. The beautiful man is standing over his stovetop with a spatula in-hand, the distinct smell of bacon faintly in the air. An amused grin spreads across Castiel’s lips as he unlocks his front door.</p><p>He may not know Dean but he’s come to expect three things of him.</p><p>One, mouthwatering scents wafting through their shared vents at all hours of the day. His neighbor clearly likes to cook. Bacon and something sweet—Castiel hasn't quite figured out what yet—seem to be his favorite, which leads the former lawyer to the second item on the list.</p><p>Singing. That first morning in the apartment, his heart had caught in his throat at the sound. Too afraid to break the illusion, he’d stood frozen with his toothbrush still raised against his teeth. A velvety, southern drawl hummed unknown lyrics, growing in volume as the verses progressed. The thin walls did nothing to prevent the soothing tune. It only faded when his neighbor’s front door closed and heavy footsteps climbed down the stairs. Every day since Castiel happily completes his morning routine to the melodic voice. His favorite days are when Dean's in a seemingly good mood because he sings while cooking. The combination of soft words and delicious smells brightens Castiel's own mood more than it should. </p><p>The third is guests. Let’s just say Castiel’s gorgeous neighbor is popular. He’s heard enough to know Dean’s name and that his talents aren’t exclusive to the kitchen. Castiel tries not to fantasize about the man's large, calloused hands on his skin but it's not easy and he often fails.</p><p>Feeling a little bit better, Castiel peels off his trench coat and hangs it by the door. He opens his laptop, scrolling through articles on creative outlets. Photography, poetry, painting… The options seem limitless. The stress of making a decision begins to overwhelm him, right as he hears a knock at his door. Begrudgingly, Castiel rises from the comfort of his couch to answer. He peeks through the peephole first and sighs at his visitor. <em> Great. </em></p><p>“<em>Cassie~!” </em>Gabriel calls in a sing-song voice.</p><p>Maybe he can pretend to be out? If he slowly creeps backward, Gabe won’t be able to see him in the event he shoves his face against the front glass <em>again</em>.</p><p>“Come on, I know you’re in there!” Another knock.</p><p>He can’t.</p><p>“Wanna play it that way? Maybe I should pop next—”</p><p>Castiel flings the door open, a glare firmly in place. Of course, he’d pull that card. Gabriel had clocked his admiration for his neighbor last week when he’d pushed Castiel to have a little too much to drink. Regrettably, Dean had chosen that exact moment to entertain a guest. The blush that had risen to his cheeks had not gone over well.</p><p>“Was that so hard?” He cheers as he pushes inside, holding a large cardboard box.</p><p>“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Castiel grumbles. He sneaks a peek at Dean's apartment to check if his brother's antics had garnered the man's attention but his neighbor appears unmoved, thick fingers now curled around sud-covered dishes. With that small relief, Castiel closes the door and faces the perpetually exuberant man behind him.</p><p>“Now see,” Gabriel sets the package down on the kitchen counter. “Pleasure is what you need to be focusing on. A little action would loosen you right up!”</p><p>Nose wrinkling in disgust, his patience is waning. “Gabriel…”</p><p>“Alright, alright! I come bearing gifts—well, a gift. You get the point.” He pushes the item towards Castiel.</p><p>Eyes immediately narrowing, Castiel regards his brother carefully. It’s more likely the box will explode with confetti that Castiel will spend cleaning for the next several hours than be an actual gift. “Why?”</p><p>Gabriel mockingly holds a hand over his heart. “You wound me.” When it doesn’t get him any sympathy, he continues, “I know you’re still adjusting, so I thought this might do you some good.”</p><p>If he wasn’t already, Castiel is now seriously alarmed. What exactly is it? He grabs a knife and carefully slices the tape. It doesn’t explode upon opening so he takes that as a good sign. Digging through the foam pellets, Castiel pulls out a smaller container with an image of a penis on the side.</p><p>
  <em> A dildo mold.</em>
</p><p>His insufferable older brother had bought him <em>a dildo mold.</em></p><p>His eyes slowly leave the ‘offering’ to stare down his sibling. Gabriel gestures happily. “Everything you need’s in there. I even got you a casting kit in case you want to immortalize your own...” He eyes Castiel’s crotch before winking suggestively.</p><p>Castiel is going to kill him.</p><p>And his face must say it because Gabriel starts slowly backing away toward the door, his brother’s hands raised in submission as if Castiel is a predator about to pounce on his prey. Castiel drops the paraphernalia, rushing after the soon-to-be-dead man. Gabriel desperately fumbles with the doorknob and slides out the door, yelling, “You’ll thank me later!”</p><p>Castiel huffs in aggravation. <em> How dare he. </em>His brother was clearly raised in a barn because in what world was it acceptable to buy your own sibling a sex toy? And not even a ready-to-use sex toy but a create-your-own toy?!</p><p>He scoops the mold back into the box and shoves it into the back of his hallway closet, never to be seen again. The world would have to be ending for Castiel to even consider looking at the object again.</p><p>* * *</p><p>Castiel severely regrets his words, for not one week later, the stay-at-home order befalls Kansas. Gabriel is his only living relative and there’s no way in hell he’s crashing with the madman and his fiancee, Kali. So Castiel resigns himself to being confined within his one-bedroom apartment for the foreseeable future. </p><p>It’s not all that bad in the beginning. Castiel enjoys the peace and quiet with the happy exception of Dean’s occasional musical numbers. He also seems to be home alone. Castiel would have thought he’d have stayed with one of his many friends that visit him, including that tall, shaggy-haired man he seems so fond of or the snarky redhead who seems to always produce big, boisterous laughs from the stunning man. He gets his answer one morning when he spies Dean leaving his apartment in his mechanic uniform. <em>Essential business—</em>probably didn't want to risk exposing anyone.</p><p>It’s on week two that Castiel breaks. Desperate for any form of entertainment outside of his usual activities, he drags the cursed box out into the light of his apartment. At least no one will know of his debauchery.</p><p>The instructions seem simple enough. The acrylic plastic molds lie in front of him, ready to be used. Gabriel had provided him with both food-grade resin and silicone to cast with. From some brief research online, silicone is the standard for functional toys but Castiel finds the resin designs are far more appealing. Since he isn’t convinced he’s going to be using these in the traditional sense, he may as well go for the artistic aesthetic. Idly, he wonders if Mia would approve of the creative hobby he’s decided to pick up.</p><p>* * *</p><p>Two weeks later, Castiel pries the fully cured resin dildo from the mold. It’s oddly mystifying. The eucalyptus leaves he pressed inside the plastic reflect beautifully in the light, giving the clear resin a sort-of watercolor-esque appearance. It highlights the veins just right, making the toy almost tantalizing. While it might be full of bubbles and flaws, he still enjoys the overall look, shape, and heft. Maybe it shouldn’t fill him with a sense of pride and happiness to look at the creation but it does.</p><p>Castiel sets his art piece aside and starts preparing the silicone without meaning to. By the time he realizes, Castiel’s already pouring the mixture into the mold. He shrugs it off. One more wouldn’t hurt…</p><p>* * *</p><p>One more had, in fact, hurt. The silicone toy had come out perfectly. Its flesh-toned coloring had hit Castiel differently. If this was his reaction, maybe Gabriel was right. Maybe he did need to get laid. </p><p>Too little, too late. Castiel isn’t meeting anyone with every bar and public venue closed, and he’d be damned before finding a hookup on an app. He’s never been that person anyways. Call him romantic or what have you, he prefers to have an emotional connection prior to being intimate with someone. Since that was out of the question, he does the next best thing. Castiel finds his local arts and craft store online and orders more supplies. </p><p>His items are ready by the afternoon. Castiel is silently thankful for the curbside pickup because he’s not sure he would have managed facing anyone, knowing what he’s about to use these purchases for.</p><p>Carrying the bag upstairs, his skin feels jittery. Not in an anxious way but in a ‘he can’t wait to get started” sort of way. He’s so lost in his excitement, he bumps right into something—or more accurately, someone.</p><p>A pair of hands steady him. One holds his shoulder and the other one clenches further down by his hip to be exact. Castiel hears an amused huff and his eyes flicker up to meet green. </p><p>“Woah there.” The slight southern accent enticing Castiel’s heart to pick up speed.</p><p>His left hand unintentionally grips his plastic supply bag. Of all days to finally come face-to-face with his model-looking neighbor, it just had to be the one when he’s holding materials for dildos. He’s not embarrassed by his new hobby but he certainly doesn’t want to advertise it to the man he may or may not like. At least he can hide behind his mask to some extent. Of course, it doesn’t help that his fabric is of cartoon bees buzzing on a blue sky. Dean probably doesn’t find it as charming as he does.</p><p>Castiel clears his throat in a panic, “Apologies, I seemed to have been lost in my thoughts.”</p><p>“I’ll say.” Dean lifts his hand up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. A slight smirk gracing his uncovered lips before the man slides his own mask on politely. It’s solid green and somehow makes Dean’s eyes even more stunning.</p><p>Inching back for his own sanity, Castiel realizes he must have caught Dean on his way to work, his mechanic jumpsuit highlighting the man’s physique. He hopes his neighbor doesn’t notice how Castiel takes him in. He’s just thankful Dean can’t see his tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips. </p><p>He quickly regains his composure, thrusting his hand forward, back into Dean’s space. “Castiel.”</p><p>Dean’s smile widens—or at least he thinks it does based on the smile lines by his eyes—and he clasps the offered greeting.</p><p>The firm grip shouldn’t make him weak in the knees but it does. Those calloused hands would feel heavenly on his—Castiel quickly banishes the thought, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. Thank God for his mask.</p><p>“Dean Winchester.” </p><p>Castiel swears to God the man’s eyes twinkle. <em> Fuck</em>, this man might be the death of him. He barely manages a nod in return.</p><p>Releasing his hand,—because there was no way in hell Castiel's brain was functioning right now—Dean gestures down the stairs. “I gotta head out.”</p><p>“Right, right.” He steps aside to clear the path. “Nice to meet you, Dean.”</p><p>“You too.” Taking two steps at a time, Dean turns back with a wave. “See you around, Cas.” He winks before moving out of sight.</p><p><em> Cas</em>, the nickname sounds good rolling off Dean’s tongue. He’s never had one so it leaves Castiel extra flustered. The fact that he gets inside and prepares five more toys that night is still a mystery.</p><p>* * *</p><p>By week six, he is knee-deep in paraphernalia. His creations litter his apartment—some good, some experimental, and some all-out terrible. He hadn’t even noticed until the arrival of more supplies had him thinking he shouldn’t open the door too widely. He’s also careful to keep his curtain sheers pulled tight just in case. With his luck, Dean would notice on his way to or from work one of these days without such precautions.</p><p>Castiel had even caved and used the casting kit on himself on a particularly boring day. It was strange to see his own dick immortalized but also kind of hot? He tried not to think about it too long, choosing to hide the blue dildo for his own peace of mind.</p><p>Determined to not live in fear, Castiel looks into his options online. He definitely couldn’t sell all of them—namely his egregious failures—but it wouldn’t hurt to try and sell the ones he didn’t mind parting with. Quickly organizing his collection, Castiel sorts the best from the mediocre, setting aside his first resin piece as it held special sentimental value. He finishes the task by dragging his personal cast out from its hiding place and into the sell pile. It’d be easier with it gone. If Castiel can shake the prospect of someone owning his sex, that is. He quickly dismisses the thought. No one would know it was his anyways. No reason to worry.</p><p>It’s surprisingly easy to set up an online shop, he finds. Within minutes, <em> AngelofThursday </em>has posted pictures, prices, and a disclaimer of his exact process and materials for each toy. He’s not really in it for the money, so he keeps the pricing on the affordable side. He'd rather have them gone than waste his time haggling. He closes the tab and scrubs his mind of the toys. If they sell, great. If not, he’d suck it up and find a way to donate them.</p><p>* * *</p><p>Within hours, Castiel’s inbox is full of inquiries. His sexual frustration from quarantine seems to be shared. At least, he won’t have to worry about someone—namely, <em>Dean</em>—mistakenly eyeing the dildos from his front door or windows now.</p><p>Packing the orders up, an email comes in that his special blue dildo has sold to a lucky <em>Impala67</em>. He feels a little jittery. The image of someone using his member for their own pleasure sends his blood south. Funny enough, the address is for a P.O. box in town. Blushing, Castiel hopes he never meets that person.</p><p>Mask on, he stacks the small boxes in his arms and fumbles to open his front door. He sets them down to grab his key for his lock. Eyeing the number of orders, he better take half down to his trunk and come back for the rest. Castiel bends to grab the smaller pile but freezes when he hears a voice.</p><p>“Hey, Cas! Hold on.” The slightly greased mechanic calls as he jogs up the rest of the stairs. </p><p>“Hello, Dean.” He says on auto-pilot, his throat suddenly parched. It should be illegal how good the freckled man looks dirty.</p><p>Before Castiel can stop him, Dean scoops up the second heap of the prepared goods. His brain freezes at the image of his neighbor holding his packaged sex toys.</p><p>“There we go. I hate taking two trips. Figured I’d help you out,” his voice warm with affection.</p><p>Castiel gives the man a smile under his mask, reminding himself there’s no way for Dean to know what exactly he’s holding.</p><p>“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” He says, picking up his stack.</p><p> “S’nothing,” he shrugs.</p><p>The two walk in a comfortable silence down the stairs and out to the garage. Dean’s black muscle car is parked next to his Lincoln Continental. Popping the trunk with his keys, Castiel arranges his bundle and then unloads Dean’s arms. </p><p>He catches his neighbor eyeing the labels on the boxes. The usernames probably throw him but Castiel would rather not clarify. He’s not a very talented liar.</p><p>Once Castiel’s done organizing, he closes the trunk and turns to face Dean. He’d been so preoccupied with the boxes, he hadn’t noticed Dean’s demeanor had changed. The once confident man now seems almost uncomfortable? It's hard to tell with half the man's beautifully freckled face covered. Though, Dean's eyes aren’t meeting Castiel’s as they had been previously. Maybe he’s just imagining it.</p><p>In case he’s not, Castiel takes a chance and places his hand on Dean’s shoulder. Green finds blue. He has to suck in a breath before he can get his vocal cords to work.</p><p>“Thank you again, Dean. I truly appreciate the help.”</p><p>Castiel thinks the man smiles from the movement of his cheeks but it doesn’t reach his eyes.</p><p>“Anytime,” he mumbles.</p><p>And that’s it. Until two days later when Castiel sees Dean on his way out to the grocery store. A gummy smile grows beneath his mask as he eyes his neighbor. The green-eyed man is struggling to juggle the package in his hand, hold his cellphone up with his shoulder, and dig in his pocket—for what Castiel imagines has to be his keys. Hoping to repay the favor, Castiel steps into Dean’s eye line and silently gestures for the box.</p><p>Dean immediately flinches away, which causes the object to drop. Castiel manages to catch it right before it hits the floor. He puffs his chest at the save and tilts his head to examine the item.</p><p>“Cas, wait!” He shouts in a panic, drowning out the faint voice from his phone.</p><p>But it’s too late. His stomach clenches in knots. He knows this box. Dean had helped him put this exact package in his car before Castiel had dropped it off at the post office. His eyes snap up from the label to see Dean’s horror-struck face.</p><p><em> Dean was Impala67</em>.</p><p>
  <em> He knew the truth. </em>
</p><p>Embarrassment blooms in his stomach and reddens his cheeks. Dean had known when he’d helped him but said nothing. Inside this cardboard container lies the special blue dildo, the replica Castiel had made of himself. He feels sick.</p><p>“Cas, hey. Look at me. Look at me.” Dean desperately moves in his peripheral, his hand now pressing the phone to his ear. Castiel can faintly hear another voice still on the line.</p><p>He continues staring down at the cursed object. Dean had hurt him. Through the pain of betrayal, Castiel swears he will not be shamed for this. There is nothing wrong with making sex toys nor buying them. Hell, Dean had bought one so he couldn’t even try without being a hypocrite. What stings is that Dean lied to him.</p><p>“You knew,” he whispers.</p><p>“Sammy, I need to call you back.” Dean rushes out before slides the phone into his pocket. He leans closer. “What was that, buddy?”</p><p>Meeting his eyes, Castiel takes an unsteady breath. “You knew and you didn’t say anything.”</p><p>His head flinches back, brows furrowing. “What was I supposed to say?" Dean waves his hands outlandishly. "Hey, Cas. I know we just met but I think I bought a dildo from you?”</p><p>“Yes,” he seethes.</p><p>“You’re serious.” Dean stares at him in disbelief, all sarcasm gone.</p><p>Castiel looks away. “Were you trying to make fun of me?”</p><p>“Make fun of <em>you</em>? Cas! I bought a sex toy from my hot new neighbor. That’s pretty fucking embarrassing.”</p><p>Dean scrubs a hand down his face, closing his eyes tightly. Castiel wants to laugh. His sex god of a neighbor, who had never failed to make his guests sound happy, was embarrassed over a piece of silicone. He holds it back for as long as he can but the laughter bubbles up from his chest. He shakes from the force of it, tears forming in his eyes. Castiel can just make out Dean’s annoyed expression before it softens. A chuckle slipping from behind his mask. The two stand there outside their opposing front doors for too long trying to compose themselves.</p><p>“Can I have it back then?” Dean finally manages. He holds his hand out.</p><p>Castiel mockingly contemplates. He wraps himself protectively around the item, “I don’t think so.”</p><p>Leaning in, Dean tries to use his height to pressure him. “Well, how about this, can I trade you dinner for it?”</p><p>Castiel stands strong, looking directly into Dean’s eyes. “We can have dinner but you’re not getting this back.”</p><p>“What if it’s a date?” Dean bargains, scanning Castiel for any sign of surrender.</p><p>“Oh, it’s a date alright,” Castiel says with a wry grin. He turns back to his apartment. “And the answer is still no,” he calls back, mockingly waving the box and slipping through his door without another word.</p><p>* * *</p><p>The first weekend after the stay-at-home orders are lifted, Castiel stands nervously outside Dean’s door. He glances down at the green gift bag that hangs from his left hand. He reaches to knock but Dean whips the door open with a smug look. That bastard had probably been waiting by the entrance for any sound or sight of his arrival.</p><p>Castiel’s eyes find the light scruff covering Dean’s strong jawline, the constellation of freckles highlighting his cheekbones, and the full lips he’s missed more than he thought. He openly traces the cupid’s bow stretched over his perfect teeth. He feels Dean doing the same and hopes his features are as ‘hot’ as he remembers—the word still giving him butterflies.</p><p>“Is that what I think it is?” Dean gestures to the present.</p><p>“You’ll have to wait and see,” his tongue peeking out.</p><p>“Tease,” he huffs. Moving out of the doorway, he gestures for Castiel to come in.</p><p>It smells heavenly but he already knew that from inside his own apartment. While the physical dimensions of the space might be the same, somehow Dean’s place feels cozier. Novelty items line the walls, carefully displayed to best highlight each individual piece. Happy photos accompany the decorations. His eyes catch on one with a laughing Dean wrapping his arm around the tall, shaggy-haired man he’s seen pop in now and again.</p><p>“That’s my little brother, Sammy.” Dean comments, clearly watching Castiel take in the home.</p><p>“He doesn’t look very little.”</p><p>“No,” Dean chuckles. “You 'bout ready to eat?” He nods his head towards the candle-lit table.</p><p>While it looks perfect, Castiel can't help himself. “Hm, that depends on if you want to open your gift first.”</p><p>It's not an easy ask for the food-loving man. He can see Dean’s eyes flicker back-and-forth from the kitchen to the mystery object. It's kind of adorable. The mechanic worries his lip before outstretching his hand.</p><p>“This better be good. I’m starving,” he grumbles.</p><p>Dean reaches to pull out the white tissue paper but Castiel interrupts.</p><p>“There’s a card.”</p><p>“Of course, there is,” Dean sasses. Moving his hand around the inside, he plucks an envelope out. He reads it aloud in a sarcastic tone.</p><p>
  <em> Impala67, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hope you enjoy your purchase.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sincerely, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> AngelofThursday </em>
</p><p>A wide grin overtakes his face. That twinkle in his eye is back and Castiel silently swears he'll do whatever it takes to make it never fade before Dean reaches inside the green bag. He pulls the box out and stares at it, his jaw-dropping.</p><p>Cas snickers, studying his neighbor read the instructions for the casting kit. He vibrates in excitement, knowing whatever Dean’s prepared is going to go cold.</p><p>Going in for the kill, Castiel breaks the tension-filled silence. “If you’re getting mine, it’s only fair I get yours.”</p><p>“You mean...” His eyes widening.</p><p>“Out of all the toys I made, you picked the one that was me.”</p><p>Dean’s cheeks redden at the implication. Castiel watches as his pupils dilate. His heartbeat thunders in his ears as he whispers to Dean, “We’re doing green—for obvious reasons. Why don’t we—”</p><p>Shutting him up, Dean’s lips cover his. Hungry hands grip Castiel, pulling him against his body. Goosebumps trail their movement and Castiel shivers at the thought of seeing their talents firsthand. Weaving his fingers through the golden-brown hair, Castiel angles Dean until they’re just right. He swipes his tongue over Dean’s pouty lip and it’s suddenly much hotter. Pulling his coat off, Dean maneuvers them towards the bedroom, Castiel happily going.</p><p>“Goddammit, Cas. We are eating after. I made pie AND burgers.” He hisses between kisses.</p><p>“Whatever you say,” Cas teases.</p><p>If Castiel had known all it took to get Dean Winchester was some homemade dildos, he'd have picked up the hobby much sooner.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! Always appreciate comments and kudos! 💞</p><p>Come say hi on <a href="https://shipperofdarkness.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/shipperofdark">Twitter</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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